Page 46 of The Sweetest Return

She had always known a good scent could make a man lean in before he gave himself permission.

Her eyes lifted to mine. Pretty brown eyes.

The kind a man remembered even after years of insisting memory and want were two different things.

I had an apology in me. A real one. One I had carried longer than I wanted to admit. But the first thing that hit me was want.

Strong. Immediate. Inconvenient as hell.

I stopped in front of Imani Bennett with eight years between us and every instinct I had telling me to hit the opening before it disappeared.

Football had taught me better.

See the field.

Trust the timing.

Don’t force what isn’t there.

So I breathed through my nose, let my shoulders loosen, and made myself look like a man who had not spent the last twenty minutes stalking the entrance like Malcolm’s big-ass panther.

Then I opened my mouth and prayed my first words didn’t tell on me.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Imani.”

Her eyes held mine, deep brown and glistening under Royal House’s lights.

“Andre.”

Her mouth still knew how to make my name sound like it belonged to her.

The sound went through my chest first, then lower, and I had to stand there like Royal House wasn’t full of people with eyes.

Up close, the details hit harder. Long lashes. A careful face. Full lips touched with cherry-colored gloss, the red sitting pretty as hell against her dark skin. She pressed them together after she said my name, like she could pull the sound back if she caught it fast enough.

Too late. I had already felt it.

I had imagined this moment enough times to embarrass myself.

None of those versions had prepared me for her looking back.

Camille lifted her champagne to her mouth and pretended to look somewhere else.

I glanced at her. “You still starting trouble?”

“Only when necessary.”

“So always.”

Her smile came slow. “Good to see you too, Dre.”

“It is good to see you.”

That softened her face before she could stop it.

Camille might have enjoyed mess, but she had loved Imani through the aftermath. A part of her would always look at me like she remembered the damage first.